A Short History of Toronto’s Street Signs

The “acorn” street-name sign is as much a Toronto icon as are City Hall or the CN Tower. Though the design has graced the streets of many municipalities across Ontario and elsewhere for nearly 70 years, it’s thoughts of our city that it conjures up for many people. Its versatility allowed neighbourhoods and business improvement areas to display their identities to the world.

Once described by the Globe and Mail as consisting of “a separate metal frame, a painted white face with embossed black lettering and a three-dimensional acorn like the cherry on a sundae,” the acorn sign marked an improvement over earlier versions that were often illegible (if they were posted at all). But, as is often the case when it comes to infrastructure decisions, concerns about fiscal responsibility led city fathers to put off improving street signage while calls for action grew.

Though the design is being phased out for economic and safety reasons (the new signs are easier to read from a distance, meaning drivers are less likely to cause accidents while negotiating their routes), Torontonians retain their fondness for it. Bids in the current online auction for decommissioned signs run into the four-figure range.

<b>Blue-and-white sign at Richmond Street West and Bathurst Street.</b><br />
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During the early 20th century, Toronto was criticized by residents and tourists for its lousy street signage. Intersections, when they were marked at all, featured blue-and-white signs posted high enough on the sides of homes and buildings that passengers sitting in horse-drawn vehicles could see them, or wooden markers placed wherever they could be. Newspapers were filled with letters grumbling about dirty, illegible signs that were practically invisible at night. The situation grew worse with the rise of the automobile, as motorists got into accidents trying to figure out where they were.

<b>Sample east-end signage at Danforth Avenue and Main Street, March 31, 1926. City of Toronto Archives, Fonds 1231, Item 1996.</b><br />
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During the 1920s, several tests of reflective signs were conducted using the standard blue-and-white enamel signs. One design tried in 1926 was attached to the bottom frame of street lamps on College Street at Bay Street and Spadina Avenue. The aim was to use the lamp’s glare to illuminate the signage. Despite the efforts of works commissioner R.C. Harris, all attempts to install new signage were stopped short by city council’s favourite excuse: no money .<br />

<b>A variety of street-name signs at the northeast corner of Belmont Street and Davenport Road, September 30, 1930. City of Toronto Archives, Fonds 200, Series 372, Subseries 3, Item 964.</b><br />
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The Great Depression and the Second World War further delayed efforts to improve street signage. Tourists weren’t impressed; in 1937, Buffalo resident W.H. Smith complained to the <i>Globe and Mail</i> about the lack of signs and the difficulty of reading—especially at night—those that did exist. “In that respect, we’ve got you beat a thousand ways in Buffalo.”<br />

<b>David Balfour presents a ribbon to Ruth Carrier, Miss Toronto 1951, at Exhibition Stadium, as Patricia Ross looks on. July 21, 1951. City of Toronto Archives, Fonds 1257, Series 1057, Item 1703.</b><br />
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<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_A._Balfour">David Balfour</a> (1889–1956) would be pleased if you credited him with introducing the iconic acorn sign to Toronto. Throughout his long tenure on city council, Balfour grumbled that he never received the credit he felt he deserved and that his peers stole his best ideas. His complaints once caused fellow Board of Control member Allan Lamport to retort, “You’re all wind and no action.”<br />
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A native of Amherstburg, Ontario, Balfour (1889-1956) developed a reputation for his tirades regarding matters he supported (a new civic square, city beautification, one-way streets, Sunday sports, and absorbing suburbs) and opposed (Communism, comic books, obscene literature, racy art). <br />
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As a member of the city’s Works Committee in fall 1944, Balfour strongly recommended the city erect new, legible signs. He gained the support of Harris and fellow councillors, and a special committee was struck to look into new signs and improvements to street lighting and traffic control signals. In subsequent election campaigns, Balfour wouldn’t let voters forget his role in bringing forth new signs.<br />

<b>St. George Street, looking south from Bloor Street, with one of the first series of acorn signs, April 7, 1948. City of Toronto Archives, Series 372, Subseries 58, Item 1787.</b><br />
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As the special committee investigated solutions, public patience wore thin. The <i>Globe and Mail</i> ran a series of editorials throughout 1946 and 1947 urging the immediate adoption of better signage. “For some reason,” the paper observed in February 1947, “the various City Councils have acted as if this were still a tiny hamlet and that, accordingly, every one ought to know the names of all the streets and their locations. It is time they realized how large this city is, and made provision for a natural unfamiliarity with every part of it.”<br />
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In September 1947, the special committee revealed its preferred design. “The signs will be enameled,” the <i>Globe and Mail</i> reported, “the background white with the street name in black. Cross numbers will be given.” Though Balfour argued for full, immediate implementation, city council approved $4,000 for a test run of signs produced by Windsor-based Copeland Reflector Products (Balfour grumbled this was yet another stalling tactic). The city traffic engineer devised a list of 11 stretches of road around the city where the signs would debut, covering 95 intersections ranging from Bloor and Jane in the west end to Queen and Wineva in The Beaches.<br />

<b> New signs in place at Yonge and Shuter streets, December 3, 1949. City of Toronto Archives, Fonds 1128, Series 381, File 19, Item 6288-2.</b><br />
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The test proved successful enough for city council to authorize $248,000 in early 1948 for a full rollout. “Delivery and erection of the new signs cannot be done too quickly,” urged the <i>Star</i>. “The number of registered vehicles is increasing steadily. People get around more than they used to. It is only good common sense that streets should be identified easily and quickly.” The contract to build the first full complement of acorn signs went to Toronto-based Roofers Supply Company in September 1948.<br />

<b>Advertisement, the <i>Globe and Mail</i>, January 2, 1950.</b><br />
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Mayor Hiram McCallum was a strong proponent of the new signage program, providing citizens with updates on its progress through his radio broadcasts and responses to personal letters. Did it help his re-election campaign in 1950? Maybe, since he held onto office.<br />
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Judging by letters sitting in the City archives, not everyone was happy with the installation process. Take this complaint, dated July 25, 1950, from businessman D.M. Rowe: “Some time ago you were eulogizing the new street signs which were recently erected in our fair city. Whose bright idea was it to put them on the far side of the intersections? To make matters worse they have put them on the inside of the posts where, at night, they are shadowed. Drive around in a car at night in an unfamiliar district and I venture to say you will be across the intersections before you know where you are at.” Mayor McCallum replied a week later, noting the many positive letters he received, and that signs were placed in locations “considered to be the most satisfactory from both the pedestrian’s and the motorist’s viewpoint.”<br />

<b>Intersection of Willingdon and Kingsgrove boulevards, 2003.</b><br />
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In the suburbs, a variety of different sign types were utilized. This assembly was used in Etobicoke in the Kingsway neighbourhood and, based on Google Maps, was still in place as late as 2011. <br />

<b>Intersection of Eglinton Avenue East and Sutherland Drive, Leaside, 1956. City of Toronto Archives, Fonds 220, Series 65, File 131, Item 11.</b><br />
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By the mid-1950s, acorn signs made their way into suburbs like Leaside. The style was used in many Canadian municipalities, and is still found in locales ranging from Lindsay, Ontario, to Westmount, Quebec. <br />

<b>Source: the <i>Globe and Mail</i>, October 20, 1960</b><br />
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In 1958, Metro Toronto’s traffic department tested new suburban street signs in Scarborough that were visible in bad weather and could be viewed from 180 feet away at night. While a variety of colour schemes were considered for the rectangular signs, blue with silver lettering was chosen. Engineers chose aluminum for the signage because it was self-cleaning during rain storms. <br />

<b>Northwest corner of Old Forest Hill and Spadina roads, October 1937. City of Toronto Archives, Fonds 207, Series 1251, Item 204.</b><br />
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While Metro planned to roll out the new signs across all 13 of its municipalities, it ran into opposition in Forest Hill, where village officials felt existing wooden signs preserved the quaint atmosphere. Several suburbs went ahead with the aluminum signs anyway, and some can still be seen today in Etobicoke, North York, and York. <br />

<b>Source: the <i>Globe and Mail</i>, October 20, 1960</b><br />
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How sturdy was the first generation of blue suburban street signs? According to the caption accompanying this picture, those found in North York were “strong enough to bear weight of 185-pound G.W. Perry.”<br />

<b>”Centennial” signs at Bloor and Yonge, between 1967 and 1972. Photo by Ellis Wiley. City of Toronto Archives, Fonds 124, File 2, Item 109.</b><br />
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Back in the City of Toronto, a new generation of illuminated signs appeared on major routes. Known as the “centennial” series (due to the official Canadian centennial stickers applied to them during their installation in 1967), they were coloured yellow and black for east-west streets, and blue and white for north-south routes. <br />

<b>”Centennial” signs at Markham and Bloor Streets.</b><br />
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The centennials were criticized soon after their installation by <i>Star</i> design critic Harvey Cowan. Not a fan of North American road signs in general (and especially as compared to theIr elegant European counterparts), Cowan criticized the knife-carved lettering used on the centennials. “This archaic method of producing street signs can only produce the badly-designed, illegible signs we are stuck with.” Cowan asked an advertising graphic designer to come up with a more graceful design. Using Wellington Street as a basis, the designer created a mixed-case street name sign whose look wasn’t far removed from the style the City of York eventually adopted. <br />
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The centennials didn’t age well, as their light bulbs burnt out and metal casings cracked opened from freeze-thaw cycles. The signs gradually disappeared, with Bay and Queen being the last major intersection they were a prominent part. Among the few survivors are this pair in Mirvish Village. Will they survive the block’s future redevelopment?<br />

<b>”Town of York” sign at George and King Streets.</b><br />
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Toronto’s acorn signs remained simple until November 1965, when a series marking the boundaries of the historic Town of York was unveiled at the corner of Adelaide and Frederick. Gradually, special modifications were introduced to mark specific neighbourhoods and business improvement areas. <br />

<b>Forest Hill acorn signs.</b><br />
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Having previously messed up Metro’s plans for consistent signage, Forest Hill continued to follow its own muse after the village was amalgamated into the City of Toronto in 1967. Three years after its absorption, the former municipality was allowed to identify itself through white-on-green acorn signs.<br />

<b>“Toronto Mayor Barbara Hall gets it in the face yesterday while unveiling a street sign at King St W. and John St., the new entertainment district.” Photo by Boris Spremo. <i>Toronto Star</i>, November 21, 1996.</b><br />
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Sometimes street-name signs are caught in the crossfire of warring groups. Take the installation of “Entertainment District” signage surrounding the Mirvish-owned theatre along King Street in 1996. Objections were raised by theatres along Yonge Street, including the Pantages (now, ironically, the Ed Mirvish) and the New Yorker (now the Panasonic), who claimed they had as valid a claim to the title as the Mirvishes. City council proposed a compromise that involved the Yonge Street zone being labelled the “Theatre District" (though it never really materialized). We wonder if the Yonge Street grumblers enjoyed this picture. <br />

By the mid-2000s, a new acorn design was introduced. Improved legibility was achieved through larger signs and the introduction of the Clearview font. But something about these laser-cut signs screamed cheap knockoff. As <i>Globe and Mail</i> columnist Dave LeBlanc observed in 2011, this generation of signs “said to out-of-towners that Toronto favoured fiscal responsibility over beauty.”

The current blue-and-silver signs were introduced in 2007. During the final city council discussions, only Janet Davis (Ward 31, Beaches–East York) voted against the new signage after arguing that they should be allowed to identify the pre-amalgamation suburbs—spurring Shelley Carroll (Ward 33, Don Valley East) to comment, “We are playing out all of our residual resentment of amalgamation.”<br />
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Originally the City proposed selling old signs to the public for $10 each, but it will rake in far more thanks to <a href="http://torontoist.com/2014/04/bidding-opens-on-torontos-street-signs/">the auction launched in April. </a><br />

Our gallery illustrates the history of Toronto’s street-name signs, including developments in the pre-amalgamation suburbs.

Additional material from the July 6, 1937, November 17, 1944, February 21, 1947, September 9, 1947, September 16, 1947, January 27, 1949, December 3, 1956, January 7, 1958, November 15, 1965, and February 11, 2011 editions of the Globe and Mail, and the October 23, 1926, July 5, 1948, July 24, 1959, December 23, 1968, March 19, 1970, September 14, 1996, July 11, 2004, February 8, 2007, and March 7, 2007 editions of the Toronto Star. Unless noted, all photos by Jamie Bradburn/Torontoist.